tagCelebritiesGiada: Widowmaker Ch. 01

Giada: Widowmaker Ch. 01

byWuddaWad©

Diane Sawyer did her best not to be noticed by any of the NBC news personnel, as she hurried through the backstage area. Some staffers passed her by; none seemed to notice her hiding behind large dark sunglasses. Taking quick peeks at the names on the doors to the dressing rooms, she found the name she was looking for. She felt the cold steel of her .44 Desert Eagle semi-auto pistol pressing against the inside of her thigh. Reaching under her knee length skirt, she withdrew the large caliber weapon. She kept it tight to her body and out of sight, while quietly and slowly turning the doorknob. Carefully cracking open the dressing room door, she made a quick check of the coast, then slipped her long, lithe, slinky and sultry body inside the dressing room, barely making a sound. She closed the door with the same stealth. Removing her sunglasses, Diane hooked them in her skirt.

Glad that the intel she was given in the dossier was accurate up to this point, Diane watched her target sitting before a mirror checking her face. Wearing nothing but a lacey thinly strapped white bra and matching panties; Giada DeLaurentis was perched forward on her chair. Her bare feet were on tippy toes steadying her posture. Wiping a bit of something from her round cheek, she continued to check her face, smiling at herself in the mirror with her perfect pearly whites. Giada sat a little upright, back arched, shoulders back; she pushed her breasts together, turned semi-profile and pouted her lips. Satisfied with what she saw, gently touched her long highlighted auburn hair taming a wild lock. Giada was unaware of Diane's presence.

Diane rolled her eyes. She made a quick visual scan, but didn't see a weapon. However she knew full well that Giada DeLaurentis always had one on hand at all times. In the dossier Diane learned that Giada was fond of wielding custom-made nickel-plated, dual Berettas, as well as being a master with knives, something Diane was already well aware of. Giada had killed the previous agent sent to neutralize her. He was found in a vacant lot with multiple slash and stab wounds, and his throat was cut from ear to ear. He left behind a wife and three small children, all of who were friends of Diane.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Miss Everyday Italian, herself," Diane announced, cross stepping for a better vantage point. "You're a little far from the Food Network, aren't you, Giada?"

Giada froze in place looking at Diane in the mirror, her body tensing a bit seeing the massive pistol aimed at her. Diane's reflection moved around behind her and in front of her. Giada kept her eyes casually fixed on her in the mirror. "I was invited to do a two day cooking piece on the Today Show and this is day two," Giada answered. "You might say I had unfinished business." Giada gave Diane a smug look in the mirror, "and you know I always finish my business."

Diane knew what she meant. "Like you finished Gregor?"

Giada defiantly tossed her hair, her petite curvaceous body looking quite relaxed and her demeanor portraying her to be unafraid. "Diane, you should know better. Gregor wasn't just business, it was also pleasure," she goaded, her pearly white teeth shining a little too brightly for Diane's liking.

"You little bitch!" Diane gripped the handle of the Desert Eagle tighter, pointing the hand cannon dead at the back Giada's head, the barrel yawning wide.

"Giada, five minutes," a voice alerted her with a knock on her door.

Diane turned her attention toward it. Giada slipped both hands under the counter of her vanity table. With lightning speed she withdrew the two custom-made nickel-plated semi-auto pistols. Giada leapt from her chair with a ballet like precision. Diane spun her head back in time to see Giada, seemingly in slow motion, drawing down on her with both barrels of the dual Beretta's, their silvery surface gleaming, aimed right for Diane's chest. Giada landed deftly and almost silently, like a cat "You always were too easily distracted, Diane." Her breasts pressed firmly, roundly and proudly between her outstretched arms, weapons themselves, which Giada used on many a mission to seduce other spies to their doom.

"Excuse me if I don't ignore people I deem to be beneath me, Giada." Diane kept her gun leveled; her eyes were steely and looking down along the barrel at the dainty but deadly, Widowmaker, as was her codename while Giada was with, The Board.

"I guess we know each other a little too well." Giada smiled wickedly, "besides, we both know what this is all about, don't we?" Diane's questioning look made Giada laugh with disbelief. Diane kept her shoulder width stance, her black heels pinned to the carpet, slight bend in her knees, the gun still aimed. "You wanted the Beijing Assignment and couldn't handle it when The Board gave it to me," Giada said.

"You stupid little twit! The only reason why The Board gave you the Beijing Assignment was because they knew you had been corrupted. They knew you were going to go rogue on them and turn double agent." Diane snickered, "how stupid are you? You think they didn't know that Gung Lao San turned you?" Diane shook her platinum blonde hair crowned head. "All the trips to the Far East you took under the guise of expanding your knowledge of Asian cuisine." Diane chortled, "Are you really that stupid? Or do you just believe their own lies?"

Giada took two steps forward, squeezing the triggers tighter than before. "I should put bullets in you're fucking sagging ass tits right now, old woman!" Her eyes were wild.

"Truth hurts, huh?" Diane mocked her. "What do you think you want to do about it, shrimp?"

Giada hated to be called shrimp. Her demeanor stayed cool, but inside she was itching to get her knives and do some carving on Diane. She checked herself, keeping her emotions within bounds, as she had been trained to do. "Well, as fun as this is, I have to finish getting dressed. I have a cooking segment to do. So if you could just be so kind as to see yourself out."

Diane was perplexed and looked at her incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about now, you crazy bimbo?" She took two steps of her own toward Giada. "You're not going on the air. I'm here to put you down like the mangy little minx that you are."

"Is that right, Blondie?" Giada asked.

"That's right." Diane kept her gun aimed with one hand, her body taught, her arm set with the aim. She put her right high heeled shoe on the chair Giada had vacated. Her black stocking clad foot forced to an extreme arch, toes pointed, shapely calf showing through the thin hose veil and her heel lifting out of the cradle of her shoe. Giada watched Diane hike up her skirt, exposing the garter that held not only the stocking up along her smooth, shapely and still well toned thigh, but holstered a capped syringe filled with clear liquid.

"Is that what I think it is?" Giada made sure.

"That's right, it's Infarctine X-3. When this enters your bloodstream, you'll suffer a massive coronary." Giada's eyes narrowed, she nervously slipped her tongue between her faintly glossed lips. "It leaves almost no signature, unless you are specifically looking for it. When they find you in here, it'll be nothing but Giada DeLaurentis having suffered a freak fatal heart attack at a very young age... Well, you're not that young now, are you?"

"Look's who talking, Grandma." Giada spat out.

Diane brought her leg back down to the floor. "You wish you could look this good at my age." Diane stopped, and then made a queerly sympathetic face. "Wait, you won't have to worry about that, now will you?" tilting her gun a bit.

Giada kept her guns leveled at Diane's chest. "Do you think I'm just going to drop my guns and let you inject me with that shit?! You must be getting senile, old lady." She started cross stepping to the door, guns still aimed.

"Oh, simple little dim witted, Giada," Diane moved to match her steps, creeping slowly in the opposite counter-clockwise direction. "I don't expect you to let me inject you with Infarctine X-3. I expect to watch you inject yourself," Diane told her.

"Now I know you're completely off your rocker, Grandma, and I mean that figuratively and literally," Giada sniped, nearing the door.

"That's pretty good, Giada. I'm glad to see those, English for Idiots audio tapes are paying off." Diane took a cell phone from a hip holster, switching it with the syringe. "Tango... Echo... Bravo... Charlie..." Diane smiled oddly at Giada, who was watching her, readying to make a dash for the door. "Yeah, it's me. Do you have him?" Diane looked down her nose and the barrel of the Desert Eagle at Giada. She knew Diane could mean only one, him...Giada's husband. "You do? Hold on..." Diane held the phone out to Giada. "Take it," she offered it to the younger spy. "I think you should hear this for yourself."

Giada tucked one Beretta in the front of her panty waistband; the other still targeted and she suspiciously took the phone. "Who is this?" Her face turned a ghastly white. She listened, and then defeatedly handed the phone back to Diane. Diane clenched the syringe between her teeth, put the cell phone away, and stepped to Giada. She took the gun from the counter and slipped it into her waistband at the small of her back, still aiming with the Desert Eagle. Then took the gun from Giada's panties and did the same as she did with the other Beretta. Giada back stepped to the chair, defeatedly plumping down on it. "So this is how it ends?" She slowly brought her gray-green eyes up from the floor to meet Diane's stare.

Diane's cool blue-gray eyes showed little sympathy for her comrade in espionage. "I'm afraid so." Diane eased up on her stance, relaxing her aim a bit.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing left to do," Giada announced. She leaned toward Diane, reaching out for the syringe that Diane now extended to her. "Funny thing is, I kind of always knew it would go down like this, Diane." Diane wasn't moved by her words, though they seemed somewhat cryptic. Giada let her right hand nonchalantly fall between her thighs, carefully and quickly feeling under the chair. Giada grabbed the syringe with one hand, felt once, then twice and gripped the knife handle with the other just under the edge of the seat. "Just promise me you won't hurt him," Giada said softly. Diane nodded slightly, letting her know he would be okay. Simultaneously, she took the syringe from Diane and gave the knife back to her with a strong and blazing quick flick of her wrist. It found a spot in Diane's right hip.

"Ahhhh!" Diane screamed, her mouth gaping, while her finger convulsed in response to the pain, discharging the massive .44 caliber gun into the floor, "BLAM!"

Giada seized the moment. Tucking the capped syringe filled with Infarctine X-3 between her bulbous breasts, she ran barefoot to the door. Diane lunged for the diminutive woman, her left hand gripping and tearing the thin straps of her lace panties, stalling Giada briefly, the straps finally tore and Diane yanked the panties free. Giada's shaved pussy was completely exposed. Her bare, round, tan lined ass bounced and flexed, as she dashed for the door; auburn hair flying free behind her, disappearing last through the door, followed by a brief barrage of gunfire from Diane. The platinum blonde furiously expending four rounds after the fleeing Giada DeLaurentis, lining the far wall with a row of bullet holes in a futile attempt to bring her down.

Diane winced in pain. She gripped the knurled handle of the long double-edged throwing blade and with a quick yank, pulled it free from her hip. She grabbed at the wound, "uhhhhhh!" Pain streaked along her body.

The dressing room door swung open. Diane scrambled to her feet, pushing past a curious staffer, knocking them back into the hall and into a wall. She quickly looked down either direction and chose the one that led out of the building, trying to make up lost time as best she could. Her hip was a constant throbbing ache that hindered her progress, while she limped toward the exit.

Outside on the streets of Manhattan, Giada had escaped. She had slipped away among the sea of New Yorkers who made their way along the busy streets of the city. "She can't have gotten far," Diane, reasoned, "a woman running naked through the streets of New York City?" Diane thought better and realized that, indeed, a naked Giada could get far... very far. Giada, ex-Board spy, turned double agent and rogue assassin who killed top Board agent, Gregor Lebenov.

How could Diane explain this to The Board? Yes, she was just Diane Sawyer, sultry, sexy, highly respected and regarded by her peers in the news field. Known to Americans as the co-host of Good Morning America and ABC News division correspondent. But she was also, Diane Sawyer, international spy extraordinaire. She was a sworn secret agent of, The Board, the most guarded and powerful civilian spy agency in the world. An agency that employed a select number of politicians, news, television, movie and sports personalities for there abilities to reach behind and beyond the normal spheres of society, into the upper echelon of the financial, political and social elite, where others could not infiltrate.

It was the first time that Diane had the thought that she might actually be getting too old for the job. She had failed in her mission to neutralize her target. Diane Sawyer, the best The Board had to offer, had let the beautiful, dangerous and deadly, Giada DeLaurentis: Widowmaker, escape. There was no telling what kind of destruction and chaos the petite, Food Network star / double agent and rogue assassin could unleash. She knew the identities of high level Board members, and their spies. Giada knew secrets about procedures and a wealth of other knowledge that could prove devastating to not just the Board and its members, but the world at large. Diane knew that Giada had to be stopped.

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